


Family Christmas Obligations

by starchaser22



Series: Seven Day Fic Challenge [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Superman (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Humor, M/M, batfamily, prompt, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 08:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11710365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchaser22/pseuds/starchaser22
Summary: Prompt:This one was actually a picture of a Facebook post, so I will type up what was in it."So my name is Josh and I am a 24-year-old student. This year for Christmas, I really want to confuse my distant relatives by making a Christmas card with myself and a random family saying something like "Seasons Greetings from the Brassows!" Making it look like I married some random woman with kids. It will be an awkward photo for sure with lots of turtle necks and ugly clothes."





	Family Christmas Obligations

**Author's Note:**

> I actually changed the prompt a little bit to better fit the characters but also because I like to think I'm funny yikes

Bruce doesn’t ask for much in the world.

For all of his sulking and brooding, he really just wanted to make people happy. Whether that to be helping prevent a large crime spree or donating to the Gotham Cancer Foundation, all of his goals revolved around helping others find joy.

However, that did not involve going along with Clark's ridiculous plans.

You see, Clark had recently realized that his family had been more, well, enthusiastic about his love life. Every time he mentioned a friend from work, someone from the League, or even a grocery store cashier, his parents bombarded him with questions. They say that it’s because they “want him to be happy,” but Clark calls bullshit.

So when Kara had helped Clark come up with the most stupid, pointless, utterly ridiculous idea that Bruce had ever heard, he felt an almost unnoticeable pang of guilt as he politely told his friend to step back and get a good night's rest, because, honestly? What the hell was he thinking?

(Let it be noted that Tim and Dick had referred to Batman’s guilt as an endangered, microscopic bacteria on multiple occasions.)

\----------------------------------------

Bruce hated putting up with Clark’s ridiculous schemes.

Yet, here they were, ugliest, itchiest matching bright red sweaters, standing in front of the most clichè Christmas fireplace imaginable. Decked out with stockings, fake snow, Santa figures, and little clay reindeer, well, Bruce wishes he could jump into the roaring flame.

“How did you even come up with this idea?” Barbara asked Kara. Bruce was thinking the same, except, instead of an excited and wondrous smile, he felt a sense of eternal dread.

He didn’t even know how he ended up here; he has never agreed. It probably had to do with Alfred, or Dick, or maybe even Cassandra. Bruce wouldn’t put it past any of them to cast this curse upon him.

While they were all in matching sweaters, some had accessories. Clark was wearing a long necklace that resembled Christmas lights, Damian was wearing antlers (he was complaining, but Clark claimed that he must have secretly liked it, or he would’ve taken them off), Jason had a mock Christmas tree star on his head, and Dick was wearing several strands of garland as a scarf.

Kara was taking the pictures. He instructed them all to look “like they were staring down the barrel of a gun, trying not to show fear.” It must have been great, because she stopped to laugh after almost every snapshot.

Pictures were taken of the whole “family,” but also all the boys, all the girls, all the kids, and then, finally, of the two of them.

“Let it be known that I never, ever agreed,” Bruce stated as he sat down in the cheap wooden chair, staring up at his tormenter.

Clark just grinned.

“Okay, now act like you’re in love, but like, weird about it,” Kara instructed, waving her arms around like they were supposed to mean something.

“They won’t have to act,” Jason mumbled, sparking a laugh among the other kids. Bruce pretended not to hear.

They both posed, staring down the camera while Clark awkwardly had his hand placed on Bruce’s back.

“This is awful,” Kara remarked, taking the picture anyways. “You look stiff, like you just met.”

“What are you, a professional photographer?” Tim mocked.

“A girl has gotta have her hobbies,” she shot back before continuing, “You two need to be closer. Maybe one of you could very awkwardly sit on the other’s lap or something.”

Bruce groaned, vaguely gesturing for Clark to come towards him. He sat down on his right knee, left arm uncomfortably dangling from his shoulder.

“No, this is still too weird,” Kara observed, making a show of tapping her foot and chin simultaneously before declaring, “do something kinky!”

To which the rest of the room died  
.  
Bruce died as well, but it was more internal, like a small piece of his sanity was wilting away, shriveling and decomposing into the metaphorical dirt of his mind. “I’m not doing th-”

Without prior warning, Clark leaned down and _bit_ him. Right above his collarbone. Bruce yelped. Kara clicked. The picture was taken.

From a storm of giggles, he could hear Dick exclaiming, “Nice job, Supes! Not many people can catch Batman off guard!”

Bruce abruptly stood up. “Well, Clark, I hope your family enjoys this monstrosity. Now, if I may, I really do have more important things to do.” _Like bleaching my mind._

“Wait, but you still need the mistletoe kiss!” Kara called, holding up a small piece of the devil’s plant. She handed it off the Clark, who hung it on the ceiling above where he was standing.

“No.”

“Oh, come on, for Christmas,” Clark begged, hitting him with those puppy eyes.

Bruce let out a loud noise of protest as he stomped over to where Clark was, placed one hand on each of his cheeks, and pulled their faces together.

It was only supposed to last long enough for Kara to take her damn picture, but once Bruce started, he didn’t want to stop.

Clark’s lips were soft, melting beneath his touch. The other man held Bruce’s wrists, encouraging him to keep moving.

They kept at it, pulling apart for mere nanoseconds at a time, if only to breathe. Clark’s hands trailed up Bruce’s arms, tangling them in his hair and playing with the loose strands at the base of his neck.

It was only when Bruce nipped at Clark’s bottom lip, creating an absolutely obscene sound that they both realized where they were.

In front of the _children_.

Bruce quickly pulled away, straightening his terrible sweater and saying, “I hope you got enough pictures. Now, I will be in my office, don’t bother me.” He shot one last look at Clark before pivoting and marching down the hallway.

Clark, dazed and starstruck, took a few seconds to catch up. “Y-yeah, and I have to go to the bathroom.” He half-jogged out of the room, down the same hallway that Bruce had gone. Which was also the opposite direction that the bathroom was in.

The kids had a lot to talk about, to say the least. 


End file.
